


only baby scars

by akiko



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Runaway children, dumpster diving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:12:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akiko/pseuds/akiko
Summary: Plastic scraped loudly against the metal of the trashcan. He hoped the shop owner wouldn’t hear.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be part of the pacifictale universe, but i decided to change the skelebros' background, so this is a different human 'verse instead
> 
> title from [_second and sebring_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qSeiG6qMhaI) by of mice & men

Plastic scraped loudly against the metal of the trashcan. He hoped the shop owner wouldn’t hear.

“Please please please…” he whispered urgently, breath huffing out in a small visible cloud. His hands stung, and his nose stung, and his ears stung, and everything  _ stung _ . It was so cold. But this was more important.

They hadn’t eaten in days. His brother was getting sicker and sicker by the hour and the cold weather was not helping. The thin cloths and cardboard boxes they’d found could only do so much.

“Please… Please…” He shouldn’t cry. It would make looking for food much harder - his vision would get blurry and his noise might alert the shop owner.

There had to be something safe to eat, there had to be. His brother couldn’t die like this.

“Please…” He hiccuped a sob.

The door swung open, and he froze, eyes wide. His hand was still in the trashcan.

The shop owner was big. Tall with glasses and a shirt with a vest and  _ tall _ . The owner’s hair was slicked back, but the winter breeze made it stand up and stick out a little, making him look even taller. Bigger. Adultier.

He should run.

The shop owner stared at him, mouth slightly open like he was surprised to see him.

He should definitely run.

“...Would you like to come inside?” The shop owner’s voice was deep and warm.

He hesitated for only a moment - but maybe it was a maybe too long. He really wanted to get out of this cold, but he needed to find food for his brother first. But the shop owner was inviting him inside... where it was warm... and probably... had food...

He nodded, and took his hand out of the trash, dropping back down onto the heels of his feet.

If he nothing else, he could just get whatever he can get his hands on and run.

But he hoped the shop owner was nice.

 

The shop owner was nice.

The shop owner, Mr. Grillby, let him sit in one of the chairs that looked like sofas (the ‘booths,’ as Mr. Grillby had called them), helping him onto it since it was a little too tall for him. Mr. Grillby had even let him pick between hot chocolate or hot milk. (He chose milk.) It was the most delicious thing he had in weeks, and that wasn’t just his empty stomach talking. Probably.

Mr. Grillby hadn’t asked about his parents yet. He had to tell him about Sans.

“Sir, thank you very much for your hops- hopsy- hosps-ice-tail-ty.” He was pretty sure he got the word right. “But please, sir, my brother… he’s sick. Really really sick. He hasn’t eaten since… since forever!” Neither had he, but his brother needed the food more. “Please, sir! May i ask for something for my brother, anything?”

Mr. Grillby was quiet for a while. Long enough that he was considering grabbing what was left of his milk and running for it. The door was a little too far but maybe he could run faster than Mr. Grillby?

Then Mr. Grillby asked, “Where is your brother?”

 

His brother was in the alley they’d been staying in for a few days now. Nobody had found them there yet, and he hadn’t led anyone (except for Mr. Grillby) there either.

His brother was visibly shivering under the blankets and cardboard.

Mr. Grillby crouched beside Sans and put the back of his hand against Sans’s forehead.

After a moment of silence, Mr. Grillby looked at him.

“I think it would be best if we took him back to the bar. You would both be warm there, and I have food and water.”

He could feel himself grinning, his shoulders lifting from the happiness growing inside him. His eyes stung hot with tears again.

“Yes, that would be nice, sir! Thank you very much!”

 

Mr. Grillby lived with his daughter a floor above the bar. His daughter was asleep and had class the next day, so they had to take care not to wake her. Mr. Grillby let Sans sleep in his bed for now.

He could hardly believe it... Sans was finally in a bed. Under soft, thick blankets. Sans was finally warm. _H_ _ is brother was saved! _

He’d woken his brother up to feed him the soup Mr. Grillby had made. Sans had smiled, eyes hazy, sleepily accepting the meal, before burrowing back underneath the blankets and falling asleep.

He hoped his brother was dreaming good dreams.

He went back downstairs, quietly, to the kitchen, where Mr. Grillby offered him his own bowl of soup. Tears welled up in his eyes again as he sobbed out a ‘thank you.’

He knew there were still good people in the world, and he finally had proof.

“Where are your parents?”

For the second time that night, he froze, eyes wide. He gripped his spoon tightly.

“...They must be worried about you two,” Mr. Grillby added, gently.

He ducked his head, staring deep into his soup. “Mama told us not to come back. To get as far away as poss- as possible.”

Mr. Grillby was quiet again.

His hand only shook a little when he started eating the soup.

After a while, Mr. Grillby spoke up. “If you’d like… you and your brother can stay.”

He practically jumped in seat, spinning around towards Mr. Grillby, and gasped, “What?  _ Really _ ?” He stared at Mr. Grillby, smiling wide and bright.

For the first time, Mr. Grillby smiled. It was a small smile, but it was soft. Warm.

It looked like mama’s smile.

“Yes. Really. I have a guest room and a storage room I could make into a bedroom, if you’d like to sleep separately.”

He burst into tears. Quiet tears, because Mr. Grillby’s daughter could wake up otherwise.

“One bedroom is okay, Mr. Grillby! Thank you very much!” He didn’t want to be away from his brother; Sans was all he had. And now, they had a place to stay, with food and water and warmth. They even had Mr. Grillby.

Yes, there were still good people in this world. And he had proof.


End file.
